


Dark places

by SidMjkGc



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 33 Day Guro Challenge, Anxiety, Blood, Gen, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 22:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7593208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidMjkGc/pseuds/SidMjkGc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a General of the First Order has its ups and downs: you can bring order to the Galaxy, but sometimes the Galaxy brings anxiety to the order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark places

**Author's Note:**

> I went in some really dark places of my mind and this happened.  
> Further warnings: there's a chemical burn, and it's described as close as I could to how it works. Wounds and panic attacks are also described in detail.  
> If it triggers you, just close the tab. I understand you.
> 
> Kids, don't do this. Seriously. Don't even think about it.

He keeps rolling in his bed, not quite awake and not quite asleep, the voices still echoing in his memory don't give him the restful peace he is seeking. His body feels tired, his mind feels tired.

“ _General!_ ” a loud cracked scream resounds in the room.

Hux's eyes snap open, breath catches in the throat.

 _A memory, it is_ just _a memory_ he thinks to himself, letting the air out. He closes his eyes, tries to lay back, to float again in a relaxed state. But he can't, he's trapped in memories and nightmares.

The right hand finds its way to the left arm, nails start to scratch the surface, biting the skin, leaving white marks that become pink. His mind goes back to another voice, one calling him _weak-willed boy_ and _useless_ , his nails bite some more, now the skin is becoming dark pink, almost red, it feels _thin as a slip of paper_.

There's a strange sensation right under his tongue, as if something was stuck there, growing bigger and bigger. Hux has never understood where it comes from, but he knows that it is one of the first signs of one of his crisis. His breath comes out with quick blows from his nose, his hand scratches and crawls the skin at the same rhythm. He's starting to feel dizzy, confused. His tunnel vision is fading to black at the edges, his eyes feel like they are about to explode, pressed from the inside of his own skull. In his ears the voices are still ringing loud between every heartbeat.

Hux tries to calm down, to regain control of his body. He focuses on the objects in his room, the bedside table, the datapad on it, the lamp. Hux tries to breathe slowly, to inhale and count to three and then exhale. He feels his face tingly, cold sweat on his upper-lip and around his nostrils. It takes a while, but it's working, even the heartbeat is slowing down.

The hand keeps scratching, though. His whole body is tense, and Hux's can feel something sticky under his nails. He knows what it is, it happened before, during the Academy. _Kriff, the Academy._ Suddenly everything comes back to his mind, every lesson, every training, every speech.

 _The speech._ He has to deliver a speech. A great speech, an important speech. Hux's is not at the Academy anymore, he is on his base, on his weapon, a really big weapon, bigger than anything everyone has ever saw.

“ _General!_ ” the Supreme Leader's voice rings again in his mind, the gesture of his hand when he dismissed him to oversee preparations, like it's nothing, just some paperwork. _Papers my ass_ , he thinks still crawling at his own arm with anger.

“Perhaps Leader Snoke should consider using a clone army” fucking Ren's voice questioning his methods, the ones that made him famous.

Kicking the sheets, Hux sits up. He rolls up his sleeve and looks at his arm: there are marks on the inner side, two not so long red stripes are almost joined in a single one, a third one is near them and shorter. They appear red, raw, a sticky wet substance covers them. The entire part is hot and it prickles. There's no real blood in sight, though.

“This fierce machine which you have built, upon which we stand” this is his own voice, his speech. Oh boy, he likes that part, but not now. Not now. _Kriff, not now_. The breath catches again in his throat, the stress crashes him down, he needs to find relief, he has to do something.

“A weak-willed boy” his father again. _Yes, yes, I know_ Hux says to his personal demon, to his memories, to his future self.

Before he can really think of what to do, he stands up, goes to the refresher, opens a cabinet to search something, he doesn't even know what he's looking for. A bottle finds its way in his hand: it looks like a common bottle with cleaning product, probably something one of the droid uses. Hux reads the label, it says _ammonia._ He knows it's a gas that can be found on some planets, like Vanoorian, and if treated and mixed with water can become a cleaning product.

When Hux meets his own reflection in the mirror, the voices start to scream again: his father, the Supreme Leader, Ren, the schoolmates at the Academy, his own. Now he knows what he has to do.

Hux opens the bottle, the cap cracks when he twirls it and a puff comes out of the bottle. The smell stings, burns his nose and wets his eyes in a warning, but Hux needs it, needs this feeling, needs the relief that will come.

Hux stretches his arm on the sink, the marks are still there and still like they were before. He tilts the bottle and the fumes reach the marks, making them burn in anticipation. Hux has a moment in which he wants to stop, put down the bottle, but that stinging sensation is already calming him down, so he decides to go on.

When the first drops of the transparent and smelly liquid touches the wound, Hux expects to scream, to cry out, to feel an extreme amount of pain, but instead it feels cold, as if it were water. The liquid is still dripping on the wound, covers it all, and Hux feels nothing.

Hux frowns, doesn't understand, he tilts up the bottle and think that maybe he was tricked or that he should add more, but then, then, it starts to burn. Real burn. Chemical burn.

 _This is the moment when I scream and cry,_ he thinks, but he doesn't. He feels pain, he feels his wound burning, he feels the stingy smell, he feels the eyes water from that smell, but he can't cry, there are no real tears in his eyes, he can't scream how painful it is, even if he can feel the pain. Above all, he can't hear the voices anymore. Above all, he can relax and lets the pain go through his wound, up to his arm, down to his hand.

Hux watches, fascinated, the liquid fall down in the sink: it's a light shade of pink, the liquid has draw blood in its action. The marks look more raw, they are turning red, and they aren't burning anymore. Hux doesn't know when it happened, they were burning a moment ago and now the arm is just tingling.

It's all fading away, there's no burning anymore, it remains a strong tingle sensation and pain, like when you fall asleep on your arm mixed with a sensation like having lots of needles under the skin. And this strange feeling is not localized only in the wound near the wrist, but it goes down to the hand and up till the elbow, it follows nerves and veins.

And then, just when Hux realizes what's happening, it stops. Even the tingle is fading away. It is as if nothing had happened at all. There's no more smell in the air, there are only some pink drops in the sink, the marks are bleeding a little.

Hux watches his reflection once more, there's no sign of pain on his face, he feels relaxed. And now he is curious, he wants to know how this works. Hux grabs the bottle again, tilts it a little, lets some other drops fall and waits. Hux waits for the cold, he waits for the burning sensation, he waits for the tingle, he waits to feel it fading again.

The wound on the arm looks a little strained, the ammonia has draw some blood on the surface and now is dripping down the sink. Hux decides that now it's time to stop, to put away the bottle, to clean the injury. So, he closes the bottle and puts it away and hides it behind others for an other time, grabs some paper towel and taps the arm to dry it. The paper becomes red, the marks are starting to bleed now, there will be a scab. Hux washes his arms under cold water: he's too tired now, so he doesn't bother to recall his chemical lessons in order to know if he can mix the solution with others or if it's too dangerous, so he doesn't bother to medicate either. He grabs a bandage and puts it on, covers his wound.

When he tosses the paper towel and the bandage's package in the bin, Hux realizes he had his jaw clenched the whole time. He doesn't know if it was a reflex for the pain or if he did to not scream, or if he did it to prevent making any sounds at all like he used to do at home and at the Academy every time he hurt himself. He is alone in his room, after all, he could have made every sound he wanted. _Old habits are hard to die_ , he thinks to himself while he goes back in his bed.

Tomorrow is a long day, tomorrow is the speech day. Tomorrow _all remaining systems will bow to the First Order,_ Hux thinks smiling before he finds rest.

 

**

 

“Sir? Kylo Ren woke up, sir” the Lieutenant delivering this sentence is Mitaka, one of the few that remained loyal after the destruction of Starkiller Base. Most officers were scared, had resigned, decided to go in other locations, anything but Hux's command. Hux suspects that Mitaka's loyalty is only based on fear.

“Mmh mmh,” says Hux looking up from his datapad. In the last days he had to make an inventory of the losses, along with maintain order.

“Sir, he destroyed another medical droid” Mitaka's hand are clenching the hem of his uniform. He is scared.

“I've heard the screams,” answers flatly Hux “You can go now, Lieutenant, you did a good job by telling me” _always praise the work_ , was his father's motto. At least when it came to other cadets.

Hux waits to be alone, then sits up and walks over the private medical bay where Kylo Ren is being kept.

This medical bay is just a room with strong white lights, some medical equipment and a couple of beds. Only droids are allowed to enter, nobody must see Kylo Ren's face without the mask. Ren's direct orders. But Hux has already saw his face, and he thinks it's a pretty face even with that gash running on his cheek, and so he enters.

When Hux closes the guarded door behind him, Kylo is crouching behind a bed. Knees to his chest, messy hair on his face, he's breathing hard through his raw throat. He must have been screaming again.

Kylo's eyes snap on Hux. “What do you want?” he definitely has screamed again, judging by his hoarse voice.

"Checking on you?” answers Hux, walking nonchalantly inside and looking at the objects on a table. Some disinfectants bottles, bandages, _look! that is sharp_. With the same indifference, Hux moves some objects around, picks them up, puts them back.

“I'm fine!” Kylo says, tightening the grip on his legs.

“Oh, sure, I can totally see that” Hux rolls his eyes and points a droid in a corner: its circuits are still creaking. Kylo doesn't answer to that, it's odd.

“Mitaka said you were awake,” Hux turns his back to Kylo to further inspect the objects on table “Poor thing, he's scared of you, you know?” a chuckle leaves his mouth “I thought I should see it with my eyes” Hux moves some metal object, the clashing noise makes him clench his jaw. It's been a while, and with the end of his weapon, and the journey to Snoke, and the many resignations of his troops and crew, and the war, and the Resistance more strong than ever, and that pretty face ruined, and the scavenger, and the possible outcomes, and some Senator of the Republic still out somewhere, and his nightmares, and the voices, and the demons... The pressure is so strong, the anxiety so high, he just needs a relief, a comfort, an alleviation...

“What are you doing?” the voice is coming right from behind his ear. Kylo sat up and now he's almost leaning on his shoulder.

“N-nothing,” he startled him, he didn't hear him move “I'm just checking on you, like I said”

“You are looking for something” Kylo's hand springs over, grabs Hux's wrist. _That_ wrist.

Hux sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes dart everywhere but Kylo's face.

_Please don't look, please don't look. But I want him to look. I want him to know._

Kylo doesn't let go, he squeezes instead, observes.

_He will think I am weak, he will think I am crazy. He will run away, like everybody else did._

“Run away from what?” Kylo frowns, searches for an answer on Hux's face, that now is flushing red.

Hux looks up, regains some control, he's feeling the pressure crashing him down, all over again, and now there's also the shame. He forgot the Force and its powers to read minds.

Kylo's hand squeezes again, this time somehow it's gentler. Hux looks at their feet, without really seeing them.

“You were thinking too loud,” Kylo explains “You want me to look at _what_?”

Hux wants to move, wants to say something, but he can't. He tries to move away his arm, to not let him touch again, even though he wants to. A part of him wants to let Kylo know, share a secret and make a bond. A part of him is trying to be reasonable, just go away and not let him know that the General's mind has really dark places. It's understandable.

In the end, Hux gazes his wrist, a sad plea in his eyes. Kylo takes the arm with both of his hands, he gently turns it over, takes off the glove and then takes the hem of the sleeve and pushes it up. They both suck in a breath when the they see the bandage, now with a dark red patch of blood.

Neither of them speak when Kylo starts to unbandage the wrist, and when the last piece of fabric is stuck on the crust of blood, Kylo looks up at Hux who nods biting his lips in anticipation. With a sharp tug, Kylo tears off fabric and scab, and Hux lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

The wound starts to bleed almost immediately: the three stripes have become one single jagged mark, and it's mostly dark pink, brown at the edges, there's some spurt of white and light pink on the inside that are quickly becoming red for the blood rising to the surface.

Kylo's fingers are close to the wound's edge, so close he can have flash memories of how it happened. His other hand rises up to the sleeve, pushes it more over and to reveal others scars, some old cuts, something that looks like scuff marks. Hux doesn't speak when Kylo lets go the arm and proceeds to take the other one. There are similar signs on his right arm, even though in a less number.

Hux is starting to breathe heavy. It's all too much, he's feeling dizzy, there's again that sensation under his tongue and his tunnel vision is becoming a bright spot with very dark edges. The pressure of his work, his life and now his revealed secrets, are crushing over his shoulders.

Hux's thoughts are a single mantra: _sorry, I am sorry._

“Don't be” Kylo says looking in Hux's eyes.

He gently pushes Hux over one of the beds, places the gloves there and then Kylo goes to the table, reads the label on every bottles, finds the disinfectants and takes some cottons and a new bandages. He could have take a bacta patch, but given the state of both arms, and who knows the rest of the body, Kylo understands that an old healing method will be just fine. Those scars are there for a reason.

“Sometimes,” Kylo's says once he's sitting near Hux “I do that, too” Hux looks up, wide eyes. Kylo's voice is low, gentle as his touch. “It helps me find the Dark paths of the Force” he continues, gently patting the cotton on the wound. “In fact,” Kylo points at his side “I did in the woods: I pounded my injury to become stronger.”

“I do it for the relief” Hux says, now calm.

“That's ok,” Kylo smiles. A soft smile. _That is odd_.

“I was born in the light and I am seeking the darkness, you were born in the dark and you are seeking the light.”

When Kylo has finished to put on the new bandage, grabs the gloves and puts them back on Hux's hands. Hux holds Kylo's hands in his, looks fondly in his eyes.

_Thanks, for not running away._

“Maybe we could find ourselves together in the grey area of the light”

 


End file.
